


The Dirty Dishes War

by Anonymous



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Domestic, M/M, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:40:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21833818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a kingdom must be in want of a servant. (or: Childermass seeks to find new employment)
Relationships: Stephen Black/John Childermass
Comments: 3
Kudos: 37
Collections: Yuletide 2019, anonymous





	The Dirty Dishes War

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notkingyet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notkingyet/gifts).



Finding Lost-hope proved more difficult than Childermass had expected; the Faerie Roads led him to the kingdoms of Near-despair and Newfound-hope easily enough, but for some reason, he seemed unable to reach Lost-hope until he had promised himself to give up on the endeavor.

Upon finding it, locating its king proved a great deal easier. Childermass simply followed the first faerie he spotted, making sure he could not be seen himself, and thus arrived at a gathering of many faeries, all of whom were chattering excitedly as they witnessed something rare and unique and special none of them had ever witnessed before (or so they told one another).

"Such a privilege!" declared a pig-snouted man to a woman wearing a dress made from humming-birds.

"Oh, quite!" she agreed at once. "And so much more agreeable than all these endless processions! Why, I wore out three pairs of shoes in a single day once! And such expensive shoes they were, too, made from daffodils."

While the spell Childermass had cast upon himself ensured none of the faeries were able to see him, he did not think they would fail to notice him if he were to start shoving them aside for a better view. Thus, it required a great deal of time for Childermass to see what spectacle held them all so entranced, so enraptured.

Once he did see, he could not help but feel rather disappointed and, perhaps, a trifle perplexed - at least until Stephen Black looked up from doing laundry and looked straight at him to ask him who he was and what he was doing here.

"It is not that I want to be doing it," declared Stephen. Most of his subjects had wandered off once the last garment had been laundered. One or two suggestions had been made that if someone were to rub some dirt on their clothes, the spectacle might be prolonged, but Stephen had raised his head and bestowed such a look upon the crowd that they had fallen silent at once.

Hard as it was to credit, Childermass thought some of them might even have looked a little embarrassed, possibly even guilty - not as humans might, but perhaps as children might, when knowing they had been about to do something for which they would be punished.

"Well," said Childermass, "as you are King, one can understand why you have no choice, of course."

Stephen sighed. "I only wished them to learn to do it for themselves. But then, when they try - and they do try, I assure you, I find myself incapable of standing by and watching them make an utter hash of things. You may laugh, sir - " (Childermass did not even smile) " - but it really is as simple as that."

"I believe you, sir," said Childermass.

"If they did not try, I might have convinced myself to leave all this behind easily enough." Stephen shook his head. "Yet it is the same with every-thing. Making tea, doing laundry, cooking dinner - it is all of a piece. They cannot seem to master these simple tasks, however much of an effort they make."

"That is why I am here, sir," said Childermass. "To serve you."

"You?" Stephen stared at Childermass as if he had never once considered that this might be the reason for Childermass's journey to Lost-hope. "But why?"

Childermass shrugged. "Why not? I believe you might find me useful, sir. True, it had been a while since I turned my hand to such honest work as laundering and cooking, but there is no reason to suppose I have forgotten, and so I am sure this arrangement will work out well for both of us."

Stephen's expression seemed to indicate he felt some doubts on this subject, but he agreed readily enough to give Childermass a try, at least.

The next few days proved somewhat frustrating.

For example, on the first day, Childermass had risen early to prepare breakfast, only to come upon Stephen in the kitchen, tea brewing and the smell of fresh bread all around, a crowd of sleepy-looking faeries ooh-ing and aah-ing at witnessing Stephen perform such feats as cutting and buttering a slice of bread.

"One would think they had never seen bread before," said Childermass, tasting the bread and discovering it tasted every bit as good as it smelled. In fact, it tasted so good that for a moment, he found it hard to remember being chagrined at Stephen having beaten him to the kitchen.

"I believe they previously put in the ground bones of their enemies instead of flour," said Stephen, distributing cups of tea and buttered slices of bread with an air of satisfaction. "Naturally, this had a somewhat averse effect on the taste."

"Naturally," agreed Childermass. He decided not to ask what they had used instead of strawberry marmalade.

On the second day, Childermass decided to wash the dishes. It was a task he had never performed while in the service of Mr Norrell, but he felt certain that his skills would be up to the challenge.

He planned everything with the greatest of care. In the morning, he had risen half an hour earlier than the day before, only to find Stephen had once again made it to the kitchen first. To lure Stephen into a false sense of security, Childermass repeated this performance at lunch, making a show of his disappointment and frustration at failing once again.

Several of Stephen's subjects seemed to find this rather amusing, though one of Stephen's glances sufficed to make them stop pointing and giggling.

Childermass spent the afternoon puzzling over the question of whether the faeries might be changing under Stephen's influence, or if they were merely play-acting. The former seemed impossible; the second, equally so. It was a mystery, and one Childermass found rather fascinating.

It helped that the truth did not matter over-much for the moment. Whichever the real answer was, Childermass ought to be able to predict their behavior to a far greater degree than was usual. That was good news. It meant he was far less likely to be turned into a newt, a frog, an interesting statue or a light snack in between meals.

All through dinner, which consisted of several excellent dishes Childermass had never tasted before, he felt Stephen watching him. Childermass pretended he did not notice any-thing amiss though one time, he turned his head to meet Stephen's gaze with his own and smile.

Somewhat to Childermass's surprise, Stephen smiled back. It was a perfectly friendly smile. There was nothing malicious or threatening or the least bit cruel about it, and yet Childermass felt himself grow a little uneasy at the sight of it.

He considered the matter during dessert, which had several faeries producing the sorts of sounds one might more generally overhear in people's bedrooms - though only for short amounts of time, before he decided that what had disturbed him about Stephen's smile was how knowing it had been.

Stephen had smiled at Childermass as if he knew him. Not merely his name, or his intentions, or even the desires Childermass was very careful to keep to himself, no - everything. It was as if Stephen had seen the whole of Childermass - his past as well his future, and had decided that he liked it.

Childermass decided that he did not care for that. He decided this with great determination and repeated his decision to himself three more times while helping himself to another portion of dessert, after which he recalled his plan to slip away quietly and do the dishes.

"You know, I do believe there exists a spell for that," said Childermass.

"For washing dishes?" Stephen looked up from where he was up to his elbows in soapy water.

Childermass reminded himself that while he had needed to despair in order to arrive here, now that he had arrived, he no longer had any need nor use for such an emotion.

"One imagines some magicians found such menial tasks beneath them," said Childermass.

The first of Stephen's subjects were beginning to trickle in, looking slightly put out to having almost been denied the pleasure of witnessing this new wondrous thing. Childermass thought he heard one of them whisper an explanation of what Stephen was doing to another.

Childermass would readily admit that he was no exeprt in dish-washing, but even so, it seemed unlikely that the act was necessary in order to create such things as clouds and rainbows.

"Perhaps if magicians had found fewer things beneath them, we might all have been the better for it," said Stephen, pulling a dripping plate out of the water and depositing it on the table.

Childermass felt himself close to saying something clever and a little cutting about Stephen being a king and doing the dishes even so, but he got distracted by all of the faeries in the kitchen seeming to be in the process of taking off their shirts.

He felt Stephen's gaze on him like a weight, except that when Childermass looked at him, Stephen appeared wholly absorbed by his self-appointed task, and all Childermass accomplished was to avoid getting trampled as a small scuffle broke out over who got the privilege of using their shirts to dry the plates Stephen had washed.

"I suppose I might have warned you," said Stephen.

Childermass had wandered into the royal bedroom with a vague idea of making Stephen's bed, as if there was any chance that had not already been done.

"I would be a poor servant if I were unable to handle a few faeries mad for drying dishes," replied Childermass. A sudden thought occurred to him. "You mean you have done this before."

"Well. It is not very practical to only do the dishes once a year or so," said Stephen. "I suppose we might manage once a week, but I dislike the idea of leaving dirty dishes for more than a day."

"I see. Yes, that sounds reasonable." Childermass did not at all see, nor did he think it sounded anything like reasonable. A human might consider these things reasonable; a faerie would not.

A faerie having seen a trick once might want to see it a second time, but rarely a third or a fourth, unless some new element were added - or unless the trick was particularly amusing, which often meant cruel, or painful, or violent, or likely to result in death for the performer and/or victim.

Stephen laughed a little, as if he knew very well what Childermass was thinking.

"Go to bed, Mr Childermass. Sleep. There will be time for us to talk again to-morrow."

Childermass went. He had made his own bed after rising but as he returned, he rather thought someone had come and made it again in his absence, better and neater than before.

He dreamt of sweet vengeance that night, of all the many services he would perform for Stephen, each one more impressive than the previous one until at last Stephen would admit that he needed Childermass by his side and sworn to his service forevermore.

After he woke the next day, Childermass lay awake for a while, staring at the ceiling, wondering.

Then he went to see if the vegetable garden might require any attention. 

After two weeks of careful observation, Childermass felt ready to put his plan into action.

On the first day, he slept in the kitchen, to be sure he would be there before Stephen.

He woke up when a faerie stepped on him. The faerie had the legs of a goat and a pair of horns nestled in their hairs, but Childermass only saw the slice of bread in their hands.

"Do you find it amusing to toy with me, sir?" he asked Stephen.

"Have a slice of bread, Mr Childermass," replied Stephen.

On the second day, he skipped dinner in preparation for the dirty dishes to arrive, only to discover that there would be none that day, as Stephen had decided to dine outside, in some manner or another that left no washing up to be done at all.

"There seems little point in hiring a servant if you do not intend to let me do anything, sir," said Childermass, accepting an exotic-looking dish that had been left over or put aside for him.

"There seems less point in hiring someone to do things I can as easily do myself," answered Stephen. He did not say that he could also do them better, but Childermass got the impression that was only because Stephen did not wish to be rude.

"Well, that is something at least," he said. "Tell me, sir. What would you like me to do?"

"I do not yet know," said Stephen. Childermass did not think that was at all true, but he had found his employers very rarely enjoyed him calling them liars.

"Do you think you might let me know when you decide, sir? I would very much appreciate it. One likes to feel useful." Childermass rather thought that was something Stephen ought to be able to understand.

"Never doubt that you are welcome here, Mr Childermass," said Stephen, and then he smiled again, and Childermass quite forgot what he had planned to say next, though he remembered it had had something to do with there being rather a difference between being welcome and being useful.

Childermass set himself to observing for another week, and another one. Stephen's faerie subjects still seemed to find him more amusing than anything else, but Childermass did not permit that to bother him. Their amusement did not hinder nor harm him in any way, and so he viewed it simply as something he might one day turn to his advantage. 

"Do you know, I think some honey would go quite well with this bread. Or perhaps some cheese. What do you think, sir?" he observed to Stephen while preparing lunch.

Stephen smiled at him. Childermass smiled back, determined to make Stephen look away first. If not for a faerie with donkey-ears, they might have stood smiling at one another for a long time, but this particular faerie either stumbled or was pushed into Childermass, who stumbled in turn, realizing that he would either end up on the ground or get caught by Stephen.

There really had only been one possibility all along.

"Thank you, sir," said Childermass.

"Leave tomorrow morning, Mr Childermass, and find us someone willing to trade us honey or cheese or anything else you think desirable," said Stephen. His arms were still around Childermass, and their faces were quite close together.

For a moment, Childermass thought Stephen might kiss him by way of claiming him and announcing to all of his subjects that Childermass belonged to him as much as they did, if not more so, but Stephen only smiled again in the end, and Childermass realized that in order to get Stephen to kiss him, he would need to find some truly excellent honey or cheese.

It was not the worst bargain Childermass had ever been offered and besides, he felt rather certain the reward would be more than worth the effort.


End file.
